by Wood, Lynn
“Lost it?” Nathan echoed, eyeing the children being led by his bemused shoulder in their direction with a resigned grin of his own. “I don’t believe I ever held it in my grasp for even a fleeting, deluded moment.”
Luke was still smiling over his friend’s troubles when he returned to his room in the keep. He caught up with Rafe and his men at the dock and told them to prepare for their immediate departure for Normandy. Luke saw no reason to delay the inevitable parting with his wife any longer. Nathan was in a hurry to be on his way and Luke could not mend things with Melissa until he kept his commitment to her to search for word of her lost brother. He thought of knocking on the door to give her warning of his entrance, but immediately reconsidered. Melissa was his wife. A man did not knock when he entered his own bedroom.
So it was surprised gasps he was greeted with when the door swung open and clattered loudly against the opposite wall. The two sisters were aligned together gazing warily back at him from where they stood packing Melissa’s borrowed belongings in a traveling trunk. “Ladies,” he remarked, and leaned his tall frame against the door jam. “I see you are anxious to be on your way.”
Melissa remained silent in response to his mocking comment, so it was left for her sister to fill the awkward gap. “Yes, baron, my husband would like to begin our journey to Heaven’s Crest as soon as possible. He sent word to the keep I should help Melissa pack her things so we would not delay him.”
“How considerate of you to be mindful of your husband’s wishes, Lady Rhiann.”
Luke noticed his wife’s lips clench together to prevent the escape of what would no doubt prove a stinging retort to his mockery. Though he agreed Melissa could travel to Heaven’s Crest with Rhiann, his wife likely realized he was already regretting his promise and she did not want to provide him with an excuse to change his mind. Their glances locked across the room and they engaged each other in silence while Rhiann busied herself packing the last of Melissa’s things.
“If you will excuse us, Lady Rhiann, I would bid my wife a private farewell.”
Luke was more irritated than surprised when his new sister-in-law didn’t rush to do his bidding, but instead waited for her sister’s nod of assent before closing and locking the trunk, pausing to whisper a few quiet words of reassurance into Melissa’s ear, then passing by him with only an accusatory glare in his direction as she left the room. Luke regretted the loss of Rhiann’s earlier willingness to welcome him into her circle of friends, but he accepted her first loyalty would always belong to her sister. He stood from his negligent stance leaning against the entry and stepped away from the opening so he could swing the heavy door shut.
Husband and wife regarded each other across the heavy silence that fell over the room at Rhiann’s exit until Luke gave into his impatience and broke it. “I would not have us part in anger, Melissa. It doesn’t have to be this way between us.”
Melissa sighed and briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them the stilted look was absent and replaced with a resigned glance, one that pleaded with him for understanding. “I am not angry with you, Luke. I am only unable to comprehend why you refuse to admit you insisted on this marriage because you felt responsible for what your brother did, and because of the king’s regrettable teasing about there being some foolish competition among his knights for my hand.”
Luke swiftly crossed the distance between them and reached up to cup his stubborn wife’s chin in his hand. He was grateful she didn’t flinch at his touch. “Melissa, it is you who refuses to acknowledge I would never enter into a sacred commitment for such frivolous reasons. There were other ways to compensate you for my brother’s assault and I assure you the king does not jest about the serious matter of marriage.”
He noticed the way his wife’s breath quickened at his closeness and was exceedingly grateful he wasn’t the only one having trouble focusing on their conversation when his thoughts were busy reminding him of the way they spent the previous evening. “I want to believe you, Luke. I have no wish to think you would play some cruel game at my expense. I hope you will take the time of our separation to fully consider whether or not you wish to make our marriage a more permanent one.”
At her anxious pleading, Luke couldn’t resist the urge to bend and brush her lips with his own. “Our marriage is a permanent one, Melissa, and I have no need to consider more fully my wish to spend my life with you at my side and in my bed. It is you who is doing everything possible to evade your duties as my wife, not the other way around.”
“Go home, Luke. Take your place as your father’s heir and the future lord of your family’s estates. If you still wish to claim me as your wife after you have done so you know where to find me.”
“If only I could be certain that was true,” Luke countered in a resigned tone and saw the answering amusement spring to his wife’s lovely eyes. Luke bent and kissed her again, not a simple whisper of his lips against hers, but instead seeking the warm response he relished the previous evening. When Melissa leaned into his embrace, his arms swept around her and lifted her off her feet as he deepened the kiss. He carried his surprised bride over to their marriage bed and dropped her down in the middle of it. When he followed her, pressing her back against the sheets with his greater weight, Melissa protested laughingly, “Luke, what are you doing? Your good friend, Nathan, is anxious to leave the city. I cannot keep him waiting.”
His hands were busily undoing the ties of her gown in search of her warm flesh. “I assure you, bride, my good friend will have no doubt as to where to lay the blame for the delay in his departure.”
Melissa giggled at his dry wit, then throwing caution to the winds, gave herself up to the glory of Luke’s lovemaking.
Chapter Seventeen
After long weeks on the road, their journey slowed by Rhiann’s delicate condition, Melissa sighted with mixed emotions from still far off the welcoming flags of Heaven’s Crest flapping in the fierce winter wind. Her enjoyment was lessened somewhat by the realization the flags of her childhood home no longer displayed her father’s colors, but her new Norman brother-in-law’s. Still, she admitted the prospect of going to sleep in her own bed, in the room she slept in for the length of her entire life, was a welcome one. From the rear of their company, she could hear the excited voices of the children rejoicing loudly at the promise their long journey was over. She smiled at the evidence of her sister’s generosity, and Nathan’s likely reluctant indulgence of his new wife’s plea to allow the orphaned children to accompany them to Heaven’s Crest.
It was impossible to continue regarding her new brother as her enemy when he was so obviously in love with her sister and took every precaution to see to her safety and comfort. They covered only half the normal distance in a day’s ride as no doubt a concession to Rhiann’s pregnancy, and her sister rode with her husband in the waning hours of the afternoon, usually falling asleep in his arms and napping for long stretches. It eased Melissa’s bitterness over her own losses to observe her sister’s happiness in her new life.
When their large party passed through the open gates she noted her father’s remaining soldiers and servants were all lined up to greet their new lord. Melissa was gratified by the astonished and relieved expressions on the faces of the men and women she’d known since childhood as they noticed her riding in the middle of the party. She took note of the way the new lord pulled his mount aside and allowed his men, who rode in columns of four across, to enter first behind the protection afforded by the keep’s strong walls. Rhiann was sound asleep against her husband’s broad chest, with his cloak wrapped closely around her to shelter her from the effects of the biting wind.
Melissa breathed deeply of the sweet air of home and brushed aside the tears that stung her eyes at the sight of the family graveyard on the ridge next to the chapel. She would delay her visit there until the following morning when Rhiann would be well-rested. Melissa halted in front of the stables and allowed herself to be helped from Arden’s back by old
Sam, the stable master at Heaven’s Crest for as long as she could remember. Tears glittered in his shocking blue eyes framed by a leathery, sun-wrinkled face and his voice was husky with emotion when he greeted her.
“Lady Melissa. It’s happy I am to see you alive and well. You had us all worried out of our senses when word spread you were gone.”
“Forgive me for worrying you, Sam.”
“Hah, as if you ever gave a thought to the worries of those you left behind when you set off on one of your harebrained schemes.”
She laughed at his honest rebuke and gave the old man a quick hug. Then when he would have taken hold of Arden’s lead, she shook her head, and with a smiling gesture indicated she would see to her mount’s care.
An admiring whistle passed through his lips when he got a good look at Arden. “I may not have Salusian blood running through my veins the way you do, but I’ve been around horses long enough to recognize the Salusian king.”
Arden’s ears perked up at the near reverence in the old man’s voice and he almost preened for his benefit. Melissa laughed and stroked his soft neck affectionately. “You still have the same unerring eye as ever, Sam. I think Arden might bless us with his presence long enough to enjoy your expert care and then he will be off roaming the hills.”
“Yes, Lady Melissa, and an honor it will be for me to tend him.”
Melissa patted the old man’s hand as she led Arden in the direction of the stables. “You had best see to the care of the new lord’s mount first. Arden understands you have other priorities at the moment.”
Sam sent her a look that was at once both grateful for her understanding and an entreaty for her opinion of the new Norman lord.
“My sister is very fond of her new husband, and he indulges her shamelessly, so I find I cannot hate him the way I would like.”
He barked out a laugh and sent her a conspiratorial wink and she smiled, her uncertainty leaving her for the moment. Yes, she decided, it really was wonderful to be home again.
Chapter Eighteen
Luke crested the last hill of his long journey home and paused in his saddle long enough to admire the impressive view afforded by the massive keep that served as the main seat of the Michaels’ family. He could just make out the rich deep blue flags with the family’s crest emblazoned proudly on their face from where he sat still some distance away. It was an awe-inspiring sight, the massive stone castle, perched proudly upon the highest peak that had remained in his family’s possession over the long passage of years despite wars, famines and numerous challenges from both within and without their ranks. No enemy had ever taken possession of the keep since the first Michaels lord saw to its construction centuries earlier. An unfamiliar sense of both pride and homecoming filled him as he gazed upon it. While Mason was alive Luke never allowed himself to think of the keep as his home. He’d known since he was a young boy that as soon as his father died he would no longer be welcome on Michaels’ lands.
Now the threat of being dispossessed was behind him. He would be lord of the far-reaching Michaels’ empire one day. The thought was both humbling and awe-inspiring. He truly believed he never envied Mason his birthright, but now knowing the weight of the governance of these lands would one day become his responsibility along with the well-being of those in its service, he realized how unprepared he was to assume such a heavy burden. He turned to the man who sat silently in the saddle at his side. Rafe would follow his own father as the commander of the Michaels’ forces just as Luke would follow his father as its lord. It was funny how the hands of fate twisted and tossed unsuspecting souls until it was ready to reveal their futures to them.
“Let’s get this over with. I don’t intend to make a long stay in Normandy. Make certain the men are prepared to leave on a moment’s notice. My father’s reception is always uncertain, and there is the small matter of reclaiming my wife for me to see to.”
Rafe nodded and with a suitably grave expression, the laughter dancing in his eyes belying it, he replied, “Yes, my lord.”
The Michaels lord himself awaited their approach on the wide stone steps leading to the entrance of the keep. Luke saw his father’s eyes scan the company for Mason, and when he didn’t see his elder son among them, his inquiring gaze returned to Luke’s face. What he read there was enough to relay the fate of his missing son.
Luke dismounted and approached his father. Though he knew him to be a full thirty years his senior, his father appeared only half that. His broad, muscular shoulders remained unbowed, and there was still a warrior’s strength in his thick arms. “Father,” Luke’s brief greeting was acknowledged with an equally brief nod.
“You have word of your brother.”
“Yes, let us go inside. I would not deliver such news while standing on the doorstep.”
The older man nodded and briefly closed his eyes as the last of his hope died within him. In an uncharacteristic gesture of affection between them, Luke took his father’s arm and led him into the warmth of the hall. He passed his stained travel cloak to the hovering housekeeper and with a smile for the family’s long-term retainer, asked for ale to be brought to the hall as he strode across it to avail himself of the heat from the fire roaring in the huge stone hearth.
“Mason is dead, I presume?”
Luke turned to where his father still stood near the entrance and nodded. “Yes. He directed his men to remain behind while he set off in pursuit of some game he spotted from the ship. Apparently he tracked his quarry alone into the Saxon wilderness. I have no notion as to what exactly he was hunting but we found his body on a precipice over the edge of a cliff. Whether he died as a result of a struggle or merely slipped on an icy patch near the edge, there was no way of telling.”
His father nodded. In that moment Luke was relieved Melissa had not accompanied him. Seeing his father’s grief at the loss of his son would no doubt have impelled her to make a complete confession of her part in his death. No, it was best the two of them remained separated until he could convince Melissa no good would come from such a confession.
“I realize there was no love lost between you and your brother, and I am grateful to you for your efforts in bringing news of his fate back to me.”
His father’s appreciation was the last thing Luke expected to hear coming from his lips. At his acknowledging nod, his father left his place by the door and approached Luke where he stood in front of the fireplace. At the same time, Margaret returned carrying a pitcher of fresh ale along with a tray of meat, cheese and bread to assuage Luke’s hunger after his long journey. She set the tray down on the table near the hearth and filled the two mugs with ale, then bowed and left father and son alone in each other’s company.
“My condolences on your loss, father. Admittedly I cannot grieve Mason’s passing, but I am not insensitive to your own.”
“He was your brother, Luke.” The old man insisted as he picked up the two mugs and passed one to Luke.
“No, father, Mason was never a brother to me. I realize it pains you to hear the truth, but as you said, there was no love lost between us.”
His father’s eyes filled with fresh grief at Luke’s insistence on the truth and he nodded stiffly before taking a long pull of ale from the mug. “I hope you plan to remain long enough at least to attend your brother’s funeral.”
Luke sighed at the thought of the delay, but he would not deny his father the comfort of his presence if he wished it for his son’s funeral. “Yes, I will remain for the burial.”
“Then you will no doubt be off again.” The words sounded like an accusation to Luke’s ears.
“I have my own affairs to see to, Father.” Luke countered stiffly.
“Yes, you always have, but surely you realize the affairs of the Michaels’ family in its entirety must now take precedence over your personal concerns. You are my heir and the future lord of these estates. There is much for you to learn.”
“I am fully aware of my future responsibilities, Father, but
at the moment there is a more pressing matter for me to see to.”
“What could be more pressing than your future inheritance?” His father demanded, his voice rising with outraged insult that Luke could possibly regard any personal interest of his own as more important than the family’s concerns.
“At the moment, my commitment to my present wife is more important to me than the demands of my future inheritance.”
“I must assume you are jesting. Let me assure you your joke is in particularly poor taste. You know how much I wanted Mason to wed and produce an heir.”
“Yes father, I am aware the thought of my succeeding in your footsteps is a grave disappointment to you, but I am not jesting. I wed a Saxon lady while I was in London, and begged the king to give her to me in return for our family’s contribution to the war effort.”
Luke watched as his father’s face turned a stark white at his disclosure of the agreement he made with Duke William, then his complexion turned a ruddy red as he grasped from Luke’s expression that he was giving him the truth.
“You what?”
The soft demand was even more intimidating than the shouting that followed. Luke braved the storm until it ran its course, standing unbowed as his father questioned his sanity, his loyalty, his honor and accused him of all but stealing the last gold coin from the family’s rich coffers. “What right did you have to make such an agreement in my name?”
Luke’s lips curved in a satisfied smile. “That of your son and heir, Father. Duke William was quite pleased to seal the bargain and presented the lady to me without delay.”
“No doubt the duke could not credit his good fortune. Who is this lady I paid so dearly for? Why did she not accompany you? Are you certain you are not playing some foolish prank at my expense?”